


Spots on a Canvas

by AngelQueen



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Futurefic, Gen, Genderbending, M/M, Porn, Romance, Slash, episode-related, gen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-16
Updated: 2011-07-16
Packaged: 2017-10-21 11:04:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/224489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelQueen/pseuds/AngelQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Only once does Arthur ever ask Merlin to use his power against a rival kingdom. Merlin stares at him, his eyes wary and his arms crossed in front of him defensively.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spots on a Canvas

**Author's Note:**

> A series of 50 unrelated Merlin/Arthur drabbles, all 100 words or less. Some are gen, some are slash, and all based on a one-word prompt. The ratings also vary, from general audiences to explicit. I marked it as explicit so as to warn anyone who might wish to refrain from reading the higher rated drabbles.

**#1 – Misuse (44)**

Only once does Arthur ever ask Merlin to use his power against a rival kingdom. Only once does he see the devastation Merlin’s magic can wreck. Only once does he see the sparkle in Merlin’s eye replaced by disgust and self-loathing.

Arthur never asks again.

* * *

 **#2 – Inclination (81)**

Merlin stares at him, his eyes wary and his arms crossed in front of him defensively.

“Oh,” is all Arthur can say. Had he really not known of Merlin’s preferment of men? He’d never thought on it before now, but then, he’d never really seen Merlin overly close with any woman, aside from Guinevere, and the two of them were only firm friends.

Merlin clears his throat, and gives him a pointed look.

It takes another minute for Arthur to get it.

 _“Oh!”_

Then he grins.

* * *

 **#3 – Hack (91)**

The rain is like needles against Merlin’s skin as he watches Arthur attack the practice mannequin, hacking at it with no regard for his usual finesse. He wishes he could tell Arthur, make him understand why Morgana is dying up in Gaius’ chambers (she was going to kill Uther, she’d tried to kill everyone in Camelot, how many bodies was she allowed to leave on the ground?). Maybe then he’d be able to come to terms with it himself.

A piece of the mannequin goes flying beneath the force of Arthur’s sword.

* * *

 **#4 – Striking (91)**

No matter what he actually _says_ , Arthur knows that Merlin is no weakling. He’s able to carry Arthur’s armor with ease, and if he drops something, it’s only because there are so many pieces, not because of their weight.

Still, Arthur never fails to surprised by the strength in Merlin’s whip-thin body, the muscles that are as strong as most men’s, but do not bulge out like they do on others. It’s a rare thing to see, and Arthur never fails to brush his hands over Merlin’s striking body, full of wonder.

* * *

 **#5 – Keyword (79)**

That word, that single word that is everything, and yet is never spoken. He and Arthur don’t say it, and while part of Merlin says that they don’t really _need_ to say it, a much larger part quivers with fear to even _think_ it.

It’s safer just to stay like this, warming each other, sating each other, holding each other.

It’s only in the darkest night, when Arthur sleeps, does the word creep around the darkened shadows of Merlin’s mind.

 _Love._

* * *

 **#6 – Blame (100)**

She sees the hatred in Arthur’s eyes. He calls her a bitch and demands she undo what she’s done. She laughs, maintains the reputation she built on the betrayal of everyone she’d once held dear.

But Morgana knows she isn’t mad; she’s saner than she has been since childhood. She knows she’s done the right thing in locking Merlin away where none may reach him. She whisks herself away from the gnarled tree, whose very existence is still a reproach.

She has taken Merlin from Arthur. Now this life will wind to its end, so that another may begin in its place.

* * *

 **#7 – Month (86)**

The moment the door shuts and bolts behind them, Arthur grabs Merlin in a tight embrace, burying his face in the other man’s neck and breathing in his scent. Merlin’s hands scrabble along his armor, seeking a way past it, trying to feel muscle and skin instead of cruel metal.

The armor comes off piece by piece, until only thin cloth separates them. They go no further than that, however, and simply cling tightly to each other, drinking one another in after such a long separation.

* * *

 **#8 – Proving (100)**

The guards deposited the culprit at his feet, the one using magic in the lower town. It was a seven-year-old girl, her fair hair in braids. He stared down at her. “Why were you using magic, little one?” he asked softly.

She stared up at him, her green eyes big. Her body trembled. “T-To help a puppy, Y’Majesty,” she stuttered. “Its leg was broke.”

Arthur’s gaze swept the room. The girl’s mother stands just a few feet away, weeping, but his eyes fell on the figure behind her. Merlin. His expression was guarded.

Another moment, and Arthur pronounced his judgment. “Release her.”

* * *

 **#9 – Diagonal (42)**

“You can’t do it like that, Merlin!”

“Why not?”

“Because that’s not how the game is played, you imbecile!”

“That’s not true! I saw Gwaine move it diagonal when he played with you last night!”

“… That cheating bastard.”

“You’re such a child sometimes, Arthur.”

“Shut up, Merlin.”

* * *

 **#10 – Manifestation (67)**

The first sign was so subtle that Merlin didn’t notice at first. A slight hesitation here, a wince there.

It wasn’t until they approached Mordred and Morgana’s army at Camlann that Merlin saw it. He saw it in the lines on Leon’s face, in the grey in Elyan’s close-cropped hair.

He saw it in the weary expression in Arthur’s eyes.

They were old and their time was ending.

* * *

 **#11 – Sing (98)**

 _“Drink up, knights, drink up! Kiss your ladies –”_

Merlin rolled his eyes as Arthur and Gwaine shouted the words to the drinking song, trying to drown each other out. They were both drunk out of their minds.

When they’d all finally had enough, Lancelot hauled Gwaine off in one direction while Merlin dragged Arthur in the other. The drunken knight and king continued roaring the ballad, unaware that what they considered heavenly singing, everyone else thought hideous caterwauling.

The next morning, both men were refused Gaius’ hangover remedies.

“You’re a cruel man, Merlin.”

“No more cruel than your singing,” he retorted, smirking.

* * *

 **#12 – Continuity (79)**

Camelot changes with each passing day. Uther’s time is ending, and the Prince Regent holds all the cards. It’s enough to make Merlin’s head spin at times, feeling like he’s about to fall if the world doesn’t slow down and let him adapt.

However, when he and Arthur collapse into bed at night, exhausted from their chaotic day, and Arthur’s arm snakes possessively across Merlin’s abdomen, Merlin knows that he’ll be all right. This, at least, won’t ever change.

* * *

 **#13 – World (99)**

Arthur’s world used to be simple. His father was a great man, he was the best knight in the kingdom, and servants were beneath his notice.

Then came Merlin. Merlin, with his stupid ears, inane grin, and his penchant for making Arthur see the complexities of life that he’d long ignored – that his father isn’t always right, that there are other men whose abilities and honor match his own, and that _everyone_ deserves respect, no matter their station in life.

Arthur’s life isn’t simple anymore, but when Merlin watches him, eyes full of pride, Arthur can’t lament it much.

* * *

 **#14 – Intermediate (100)**

Merlin rubbed at his eyes wearily, slumping down onto his bedroll inside the tent. He’d known these negotiations between Camelot and the Druids would be difficult, had been prepared for it, but he was still exhausted. The Druids had long memories, many of them full of Camelot’s persecution under Uther’s command and even at Arthur’s hand during his time as prince. They weren’t going to make this easy for anyone.

Hands abruptly rested on his shoulders, kneading them. Merlin tensed.

“Relax, Merlin,” Arthur said quietly, kneeling down behind him. He pressed a kiss to Merlin’s ear. “Rome wasn’t built in a day.”

* * *

 **#15 – Management (100)**

Arthur sags in his chair. How had his father managed the kingdom by himself for so long? He’d never appeared so exhausted as Arthur does now.

Merlin looks just as tired, having been doing all of his chores plus running errands for Arthur. “How did my father do it?” Arthur murmurs.

“He had an entire council to assist him, didn’t he?”

It’s true, but Morgana had executed his father’s council to prevent them from rebelling. Or maybe because she’d never liked them.

Maybe that’s what he needs to build, a council of his own, with a round table for them to gather around…

* * *

 **#16 – Compelling (100)**

Arthur acts like a prat, a lot. A spoiled, unrepentant prat. He drives Merlin mad with his behavior, throwing objects in a tantrum. It’s so irritating that Merlin has to control the desire to lob something back.

Then there are other times. Arthur galvanizes a village into standing up to bandits, sacrifices himself for another, or calls upon a group of commoners to sit and stand with him as equals.

It’s those times that Merlin sees the person he’s becoming, someone who will be more than man, more than a king. It’s those times that he sees the beginning of a legend.

* * *

 **#17 – Balancing (94)**

“Drop any of those, Merlin,” Arthur warned, “and I will have you tossed into the stocks.”

Merlin rolled his eyes as he continued to juggle five different, and large, piles of parchments, trying to keep them separate from the other. “A little help would be nice,” her grumbled.

“I’ll have you know my hands are quite full!” Arthur was carrying an apple he’d kept from his breakfast tray.

Merlin glared at him, silently promising himself he’d take revenge tonight, when the candles were out and only the night was witness to what went on in Arthur’s bed.

* * *

 **#18 – Plant (100)**

Merlin struggled not to laugh. Gwaine didn’t bother and fell over, howling.

“All right!” Arthur snapped, struggling against the vines he was tangled in. “You’ve had your fun, now get me out!”

“Don’t get your breeches in a twist, Princess,” Gwaine cackled.

Arthur glared at him, but Merlin rolled his eyes. “Relax, Arthur,” he said, “and their hold won’t be so tight. Then you can slide out.”

Arthur sighed. “How do you suggest I _relax_ , Mer –” He shut up when Merlin kissed him fiercely. After a moment, Arthur’s body went limp. He slid out and landed in a heap at Merlin’s feet.

* * *

 **#19 – Literature (99)**

Arthur hadn’t been allowed fairytales as a boy, but his father _had_ been encouraging of his interest in histories. He’d told him that it spoke well of him that he wished to learn from past leaders. Arthur had been diligent in his readings after that , and had enjoyed himself thoroughly.

“What are you reading?” Merlin asked, leaning over his shoulder to look at the tomb. He wrinkled his nose. “The Romans _again_?! Why not try something different?”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “What do you suggest?”

“Um.” Merlin seemed thrown that he was actually being asked. “Poetry?”

“… You’re such a girl, Merlin.”

* * *

 **#20 – Plague (100)**

It had only taken a brief explanation from a stable hand to have Arthur racing toward Gaius’ chambers, still in his armor. He burst through the door. Gaius looked up from his desk. The weariness in the old man’s face was alarming. “Sire –”

“Where is he?”

Gaius hesitated, then nodded toward Merlin’s room. Arthur didn’t waste time and stormed in.

Only to freeze in his tracks.

Merlin lay in the bed, unmoving. Arthur didn’t have to touch his skin to know it was clammy and fevered. He didn’t have to have ears to know that Merlin was muttering nonsense in his fitful sleep.

“No…”

* * *

 **#21 – Workshop (97)**

Merlin _loved_ having his own work room. It had so many advantages over staying in Gaius’ spare room. Of course, the best advantage _by far_ to having his own space was that he could bring, ahem, _visitors_ , up and not have to worry about Gaius or anyone else walking in on them.

Like right now. Merlin gasped as Arthur’s teeth grazed his neck. “Pay attention, Merlin,” he growled, his hips jerking in an echo of the sentiment, pushing himself even deeper inside Merlin.

Merlin’s fingers gripped Arthur’s hair, dragging him upward. “Always do,” he muttered before their lips met.

* * *

 **#22 – Jealous (97)**

Merlin sat underneath the tree with Lancelot and Gwaine, the latter probably telling some outrageous story from his travels. Something was said, and Merlin howled with laughter. Even Lancelot cracked a smile.

Arthur watched from a distance, waiting for his next opponent. Merlin had done his chores, and his two companions had finished their training exercises. There was no reason to chastise them for dallying.

Still, watching Merlin enjoy himself with the two men did strange things to Arthur. He’d never liked sharing Merlin’s attentions, had even begrudged the share Morgana had once received. Now, it was worse.

Arthur scowled.

* * *

 **#23 – Regret (100)**

Merlin had tried not to feel regret. He’d been riddled with it over Morgana’s descent, and it had done no good. He’d pushed the feeling away, ignoring it whenever it tried to return.

He refused to feel regret when Mordred declared himself Camelot’s enemy, when the anniversary of Freya’s death came, when Gwen and Lancelot’s affair was revealed. Anger and misery he’d felt aplenty, but regret, never.

It wasn’t until Merlin sat on the muddied ground at Camlann, Arthur struggling to breathe as blood flooded his mouth, that the regret engulfed Merlin.

He’d never told Arthur how much he loved him.

* * *

 **#24 – Civilian (100)**

“Not this time, Merlin.”

“Why? I’ve always gone with you –”

Arthur interrupted, “This isn’t hunting or a patrol. We’re going into hostile territory –”

“Which I’ve done loads of times!”

“– to put the area under martial law until order’s restored and a new lord’s installed.” Arthur grimaced. “Caradog let the place run mad. We’re going to have a time of it, and the knights and I cannot afford to be worrying about you.”

Merlin opened his mouth, but Arthur stopped him, gripping his shoulders. “We all have our tasks. I need you here. If something happens, send for me.”

* * *

 **#25 – Trial (97)**

After he found out about Merlin’s magic, Arthur stopped attending the trials concerning sorcery. He had no desire to watch the accused either hold their head up, staring at his father defiantly, or weep, as was often the case when the accused was a child.

Arthur knew he’d be unable to sit by and say nothing, not when he would keep seeing Merlin in their place. So he kept himself away from temptation, and made plans to stop the madness once he sat in his father’s place.

Maybe then he’d stop dreaming about Merlin being engulfed in flames.

* * *

 **#26 – Economy (100)**

Arthur stared at the lists in front of him. “What’s this?”

Merlin’s expression was livid. “The list of courses for the feast that Lord Berilac compiled. Ida in the kitchens wanted your approval.”

Morgana’s reign had left little time for the harvest, and a much of the crops had rotted in the fields, and Berilac wanted a fucking _feast_? Arthur growled. They needed to be conserving every bit of food they could, to last through the winter. He flung the list at Merlin.

“Economize, Merlin. No more than three courses, and make sure it’s understood that anything that can be saved is.”

* * *

 **#27 – Sampling (57)**

Merlin doesn’t move as Arthur’s lips brush along the naked skin of his neck, shoulder, and chest. Merlin’s skin has a strange quality to it, one Arthur would love to analyze in detail, but he forces himself not to stay in one spot for long, intent on keeping Merlin guessing as to what spot he’ll sample next.

* * *

 **#28 – Levitate (75)**

A goblet of wine appeared at Arthur’s hand. He took it and sipped the liquid, not looking up from the parchments in front of him.

An apple soon followed, hovering at his elbow. He grabbed it as well, taking a bite. Still he didn’t look up.

A pillow came sailing and bashed him in the head. Arthur leapt up, the goblet and apple crashing to the floor.

“Merlin!” he shouted. “Stop showing off!”

Merlin smirked unrepentantly from the bed.

* * *

 **#29 – Key (97)**

The dungeons are eerily silent, Merlin observes. He’d never noticed it during his previous stays here, his mind usually on some other matter, be it a strange voice coming from below the floor stones, or one insidious plot to kill Arthur and/or take over Camelot. This time, though, he sits in his cell, and takes note of the strange, encompassing silence.

Until it’s no longer silent, anyway.

The key unlocking the door makes Merlin look up.

Arthur looks back at him.

“Let’s go.” The words echo, but they’re clear.

Merlin gets to his feet and follows Arthur, just like always.

* * *

 **#30 – Protest (89)**

Some of the nobles had tried to protest when Arthur appointed Merlin Court Sorcerer. It wasn’t done, they claimed, a man without lineage holding such an auspicious spot. Even in the older days, any magic users that held positions of importance were from noble families.

It wasn’t until Morgana attacked Camelot openly and Merlin stood up to defend it that the nobles understood Arthur’s reasons. Merlin’s unwavering loyalty was a known quantity, but none had seen the extent of his power before that.

Afterward, the nobles ceased their protests.

* * *

 **#31 – Lifetime (89)**

Arthur could feel his life draining from his body. Mordred was dead, defeated at last, but he’d still managed a mortal blow. Camelot’s victory today was pyrrhic, at best.

Merlin’s face swam before him, full of terror and grief. His mouth moved, and Arthur felt his magic roll over him, but nothing changed. Arthur reached up, brushing bloody fingers over the other man’s cheek. He’d had a lifetime of that face, his smiles, his laughter, his sorrows.

It wasn’t nearly enough. Arthur wanted more time with him. Much, much more.

* * *

 **#32 – Queen (100)**

The throne room was silent, despite the enormous crowd gathered. Only a single column of space, down the center from the doors to the dais, was unoccupied.

She approached, her gait surprisingly graceful, given her usual clumsiness. She was beautiful, wearing a blue gown that matched her eyes, but then, he’d thought her beautiful when she’d worn servant’s garb.

She knelt, and her eyes met his. Despite the solemnity of the occasion, her lips turned upward in a little smile.

Taking the crown from the waiting page, he laid it on her head. “I pronounce you, Merlin, daughter of Balinor, Queen of Camelot.”

* * *

 **#33 – Interim (96)**

It was difficult for Merlin and Gaius, treating Arthur’s wound in the cave’s unsanitary conditions. Arthur said nothing as they worked, and Merlin exchanged worried looks with Gaius. When the final dressing was in place, Gaius moved away.

Merlin opened his mouth, but no words were forthcoming. Just what _could_ he say? Arthur’s father had been brought to his knees by a woman he’d cared for since he was a boy, a woman who was actually his own half- _sister_.

Instead, he settled down next to him, their shoulders touching. For now, he’d say nothing. For now, he’d wait.

* * *

 **#34 – Contact**

The messages came whenever Arthur ate alone in his chambers. Scraps of paper hidden under his plate, or stuck in his bread. It could only mean that Merlin had some of the servants supporting him, if they risked relaying messages for him.

Often Arthur had received a message once a week, sometimes more if there was someone in the dungeons who needed to be broken out, but suddenly, the messages stopped. No had heard a thing from Merlin. Weeks passed, and nothing.

Until there was finally something again.

 _I’m back. Meet me in the darkling woods tonight._

Arthur heaved a sigh of relief.

* * *

 **#35 – Rite (100)**

The ritual wasn’t witnessed. No one saw it performed by Emrys and the King. No one saw them shed their clothes, or their hands glide over their skin. No one saw Emrys recline and pull the King up, pressing their bodies close.

No one heard their moans as their bodies became one. No one heard their cries of completion.

No one saw their seed trickle down onto the altar. No one saw the air shimmer.

The rite wasn’t witnessed, but there wasn’t any need. The grass was greener, the sky bluer, and the birds began to sing.

The rite was successful.

* * *

 **#36 – Worrying (100)**

Merlin was certain he was going to die. No one could be this frantic for so long and come out of it alive.

It was all Arthur’s fault. He’d refused to let Merlin accompany him in his talks with Morgana and Morgause. Without Merlin, Arthur’s only defense against their magic was Excalibur, and he wasn’t certain that would be enough.

He was stuck here in the camp, watching the valley between the two hills. Watching the two figures approach the third, Merlin tensed. If he felt any magic aimed at Arthur, he’d intervene.

If the worry didn’t kill him, that is.

* * *

 **#37 – Horn (99)**

The blare of the horn caught the attention of everyone in Camelot, from the people in the lower town to the citadel’s residents. Merlin and Gwen, who had been listening to petitions, leapt to their feet and hurried out, followed by the court. Rushing out onto the parapet, they gazed out past the city’s walls.

A sea of red was approaching, and to Merlin’s eyesight, he could see a familiar chestnut horse bearing a rider with sun-kissed hair. Riding along next to him was a dark-haired man on a grey horse.

A grin spread across Merlin’s face. “They’re home, Gwen!”

* * *

 **#38 – Epistolary (69)**

 _Merlin,_

 _I realize that this might be beyond your power of observation and reason, but when one goes on an extended patrol, one usually hopes to have a supply of Gaius’ salve for sore muscles. There is none in my pack. Send some back with the messenger, and then put yourself in the stocks for sheer incompetence._

 _Arthur_

 _\--_

 _A,_

 _The salve is in Lancelot’s pack. You always break your jars, prat. Bite me._

 _M_

* * *

 **#39 – Venture (99)**

“Damn it,” Merlin growled as another wave of arrows rained down. The knights’ shields provided some protection, but there were still spaces in between where the arrows could pass through. Leon and Elyan already had been grazed.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed forward out of the circle. “Merlin!” Arthur shouted. Merlin could feel him trying to pull him back. He darted forward, out of reach.

Standing in front of the defensive knights, Merlin could see Morgana standing with her archers, smiling smugly. _Arthur will die today, Merlin,_ she whispered into his mind.

 _No, he won’t,_ Merlin hissed. His eyes flared gold.

* * *

 **#40 – Hide (94)**

It was relatively easy to get Arthur out of Camelot after witnessing Morgana’s coronation. Fortunately, Gaius, Gwaine, and Elyan were also waiting exactly where Arthur had ordered. “Where are we going to go?” Gwaine asked. “We can’t go asking for a room at an inn.”

Where _could_ they hide? Ealdor was too far, and they couldn’t risk bringing an immortal army down on his village’s collective heads. If –

“There’s a cave,” Arthur’s voice cut through the silence, hoarse and dull, “in the darkling woods, not far from here.”

Merlin stared at him. “We’ll go there, then.”

* * *

 **#41 – Passenger (100)**

Arthur grit his teeth and tried to ignore Lancelot and Merlin, who were riding behind him. When Merlin’s horse had thrown a shoe, Lancelot had volunteered to share his mount.

That wasn’t what annoyed Arthur. No, what irritated him was that the two had been whispering constantly, sounding like lovers sharing secrets. It took all of his self-control not to demand that Merlin ride with him instead.

That night, Arthur casually inquired what the two had been discussing. Merlin, who was as naked as Arthur, raised an eyebrow. “You’re asking about _Lancelot_ when we’re like this?” His laughed. “Should I be jealous?”

* * *

 **#42 – Read (100)**

Arthur stood in the doorway of Gaius’ chambers, staring at the lone occupant. Merlin was sitting at the table in the center of the room, his dark head bent over a thick tome, engrossed in its contents.

“You can read?” he blurted.

Merlin jumped, but seeing him, he nodded. “My mother taught me.”

“How did she know?” Reading among the nobility was intermittent. Among the lower classes, it was almost unheard of.

An irritated expression crossed Merlin’s face. “Gaius taught her,” he replied. “Why?”

He’d offended the idiot. Having no desire to argue, Arthur shrugged. “It’s unusual, that’s all.” Clearly, Merlin wasn’t completely useless. Interesting.

* * *

 **#43 – Gold (80)**

The old woman’s appearance rippled, fading from a wrinkled, weather beaten crone, to a smooth, pale skinned young maiden, dark hair flowing down her back in a mass of curls, green eyes that glowed _gold_ –

Arthur stepped back even as Morgana’s magic flew from her hands, only to be intercepted by another, different burst of energy.

They turned, Arthur in amazement and Morgana with a snarl on her lips.

Merlin’s eyes were just as gold and fierce as Morgana’s.

“Don’t. Touch him.”

* * *

 **#44 – Defeat (88)**

Merlin watched the scene unfolding inside from the sidewalk outside. Arthur and Gwen, standing arm in arm and beaming as everyone offered them their congratulations. Lance smiling weakly as he slapped Arthur on the back and kissed Gwen’s cheek. Gwen’s smile dimming ever so slightly as she gazed at him. Arthur too busy grinning and laughing with Leon and Gwaine to notice the exchange.

Merlin closed his eyes in defeat. He’d watched scenes just like this, lifetime after lifetime. He couldn’t do it anymore.

Merlin walked into the darkness, alone.

* * *

 **#45 – Mark (59)**

The red mark on Merlin’s neck was obvious to anyone who looked at him. Not even his usual neck apparel could disguise it. It was a mark of ardor, of passion. It informed everyone quite clearly that Merlin had a lover, and that lover had no problem leaving signs of his or her presence.

Arthur smirked. Just as he’d planned.

* * *

 **#46 – Guide (100)**

“Merlin,” Arthur says impatiently, “this has gone on long enough! I have important things to do.”

“Patience, Prince Prat,” Merlin replies pertly, continuing through the foliage. “We’re almost there.”

Arthur sighs. He said that a half-hour ago.

They come to a halt as they stumble into a clearing. Arthur looks around, ready to renew his complaints, but freezes when he sees the rock. The rock with a sword piercing it.

“It’s yours, Arthur,” Merlin says quietly. “It’s meant for you, and you alone.” He brushes his hand over the hilt, and Arthur thinks it glows in response. Then Merlin gestures him forward. “Claim it.”

* * *

 **#47 – Brave (100)**

“You’re the bravest of us all, and he doesn’t even know it.”

Arthur _does_ know. He knows what Merlin has risked for him, and will continue to risk. He’s not blind, no matter what the others believe.

Merlin tells Lancelot that he can’t know, not yet, and Arthur agrees. If he _knows_ , then he’s obligated to do something about it, in accordance with Camelot’s laws. As long as he doesn’t, then he can continue to feign ignorance and shield Merlin from scrutiny.

Arthur can also prepare a way to thank Merlin for all that he’s done. He isn’t completely ungrateful, after all.

* * *

 **#48 – Table (99)**

“Do you like it?” Merlin asked, watching Arthur gape at the scene in front of them.

It had taken some doing to arrange. Magic to transport it, servants to coordinate, and the knights to distract Arthur in the meantime.

“Now you can back up your claims about equality,” Merlin added, grinning.

Arthur’s eyes narrowed and he stared at Merlin. “Yes,” he responded, “I do like it. And I know how to christen it.” Merlin didn’t have a chance to protest when Arthur dragged him inside.

Merlin’s protests died when Arthur shoved him against the round table and kissed him senseless. Christen it? _Oh…_

* * *

 **#49 – Beam (89)**

Arthur stood up and turned to face his people for the first time as their king. The cheers began instantly, and they were deafening. He saw Gwaine and Elyan’s grins, the more dignified smiles of Percival, Leon, and Lancelot, Guinevere’s proud expression, and even Gaius’ faint, pleased smile.

What stood out the most, however, was Merlin. Merlin’s smile was brighter than he’d ever seen, and Arthur was certain he’d never seen him look so proud.

Something warm buzzed in Arthur’s chest, and he couldn’t stop himself from grinning back at him.

* * *

 **#50 – Wake (100)**

It was time. Arthur had slept for two millennia, and now he was needed again. Society had been failing steadily for centuries, wallowing in its corruption, and now the planet was paying for it.

The world needed someone to save it. It needed _Arthur_.

And so did Merlin. He’d lived long enough without the person he’d loved most.

Merlin watched him, saw the twitch of muscles, the rise and fall of a breathing chest. He held his breath, _hoping_ …

Arthur’s eyes opened. “Merlin…” It was barely more than a whisper, but it was enough.

Merlin sobbed with relief, burying his face against Arthur’s chest.


End file.
